Managing
by Deanie Weenie
Summary: It's sixth year and Hannah is informed of something terrible about her mother. Drabble. Bit of Neville/Hannah.


**Managing**

It had been one fine and sunny afternoon in sixth year. Hannah and Neville were working hard on their project in herbology and everything was going without amiss. That was until Professor Sprout pulled Hannah into a corner, murmuring those immortal words, "_Miss Abbott, I need to speak to you._"

Hannah quickly gestured to Neville that she'd be back in just one moment. Little did she know the news that the professor was about to inform Hannah of...

"Miss Abbott, I am sorry to inform you, but ... oh dear, how do I put this lightly...?" Professor Sprout thought aloud. "Your – your mother, she..."

"What is it Professor?" Hannah said, getting impatient. The professor was just taking valuable working time off of their project, setting them up for a failure. She just wanted the elderly woman to come out with it and let her get back to her project.

"Y – Your mother has been found dead in your home," the woman finally managed to say quite bluntly. Hannah felt her jaw drop. "Death Eaters were behind it."

"No. No, no, no..." Hannah gasped, her eyes overflowing with salty water. "No, this cannot be. Not my mum..."

The woman gave a look of sympathy. "I am utterly and sincerely sorry."

Neville glanced at the professor chatting with Hannah. He wondered whatever they were speaking about and why Hannah looked so upset. Neville watched at Professor Sprout patted the young Hufflepuff once on the back and let Hannah leave the room.

Neville stood up abruptly, jogging over to the teacher. "Professor," he called.

"Mr. Longbottom, your partner has been dismissed. You are also dismissed for the time-being," the woman quickly said before Neville could get another word in.

"Okay, but Professor," Neville rationed, "What happened to Hannah? Why was she _so upset_?"

"Her mother was found dead in their home," Professor Sprout finally stated not beating around the bush at all. "Death Eaters were behind it. Gave her father quite a shock when he came home only to find Mrs. Abbott on the floor, motionless."

Neville clasped a hand over his mouth. "Oh my god," Neville uttered.

"You're dismissed!" Professor Sprout remind Neville. "_Go_!"

He nodded once and dashed out the door. He needed to find Hannah, to comfort her through this hard time and help her make it through the day.

He jogged around the castle, searching for Hannah's blonde head. Finally, he found her sitting on the moving stairs, crying her soft brown eyes out.

"Hannah," he said, towering behind her, just a few steps away.

She kept her eyes ahead of her as she choked on the word, "Neville."

Neville plunked down on the step beside her. Awkwardly, he wrapped his arm around Hannah's shoulder, pulling her close. Hannah gave in. She turned her head to cry directly into Neville's shoulder, dampening his Gryffindor robes. He honestly didn't mind. He knew it would be hard to lose a parent at this age since there's no forgetting it. He pat her hair in the hopes that that would comfort her and rid her of her sorrows.

"I just – I just want someone to tell me that it's all going to be okay," she sobbed into the hall. "And I want to be able to _believe _it will be okay."

Neville felt tears gather beneath his own eyes. He felt terrible for Hannah. "I'd like to believe that too, Hannah, for a lot of things," Neville uttered. "But if you stay in the darkness and don't accept all the bad things you will never be able to see the light."

She furiously swiped at her eyes, trying to dry her tears. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't overreact so much," said Hannah, coiling away from Neville slightly. "I know you went through something _much_ worse as a _very _young child. You never grew up with your parents and when you do get to see them they don't even remember who you are."

"Well, yes, but I'll still be sad with you anyways because that's what good friends do," Neville explained. Suddenly, almost impulsively, Hannah trapped Neville's lips beneath her own, catching Neville off guard.

His face turned a bright scarlet when she retracted from him. She rested her head in the crook of his neck.

"Thanks, Longbottom," she whispered, her warm pink cheek against his throat. "I wouldn't be able to manage alone, but with you it's easy."

"Yeah," Neville sighed, looking down the stairs. "Me either."

**The end.**


End file.
